


sweet like

by galaxylove



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, cameo 3mix, just some good ol' smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 06:38:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15067331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxylove/pseuds/galaxylove
Summary: There’s hands pushing at her shoulders, nimble fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist that drag her back to the brightly lit stage, crowd roaring in approval as Jeongyeon begins to pull her towards the centre. She shakes out of her stupor to look at Momo standing sheepishly, pushing hardheartedly against Nayeon in protest as the pair push them closer to one another. Her mind stops working the closer she gets to the other girl, short circuiting as the rush of blood in her ears drowns out the screaming voices in the crowd and the teasing, encouraging words Nayeon was fake whispering to her.Not Momo.Anyone but Momo.





	sweet like

**Author's Note:**

> I uh, saw someone on twitter recommend me as one of their favourite authors and it made me happy enough that I actually managed to finish this thing that's been sitting in my drafts for the past month or so, so thank you for that :)

 

   Bright lights blind her as she stands proud on the stage, smile unfaltering as she stares out at the thousands of faces dotted in the crowd.  It’s hot; perspiration trickling down the back of her neck slowly as she laughs accordingly with something Nayeon says to her side, blinking away the fading flashes of light behind her eyes to look at the older girl fondly.

 

  The crowd roars with her - a deafening wall of sound that fills her chest with an impossible volume of light and ecstasy. They’ve been talking for a few minutes now, part way into one of the breaks that allow them to get their breath back and interact with the fans for a precious amount of time between performing. It’s scripted, loosely, of course, but she still finds herself on the tips of her toes with anticipation as her members talk animatedly and wearing a broad, genuine grin as they tease each other good naturedly. 

 

   Ah. They’re leading onto the segment about Nayeon and Jeong’s duo performance, if the excited squeals of the fans filling the stadium are anything to go by. She doesn’t need to turn to the side or crane her head to look behind her at the big screen to tell when they were re-enacting  _ ‘that’ _ move, the yells of approval from the crowd and the surrounding members telling enough. It was a testament to their bond how easily they danced around the other, like two pieces of the same puzzle slotting into place as Nayeon curves into the younger girl so naturally, and how Jeongyeon fits so seamlessly around her as they move in tandem.

 

  It’s a compelling image. Perhaps she’d be more intrigued if she wasn’t so used to them - to how Nayeon and Jeongyeon and Jihyo were so intrinsically together. To how in tune they all were with each other; how Nayeon could always tell when they were upset by just a raise of an eyebrow, or how Jeongyeon would always,  _ always _ be the first person by their side whenever things got a little bit too much.

 

  The cheers die down and Sana wonders if any of the eyes watching them would notice just how perfectly Jihyo would fit in the space between them when they pull apart.  

  The crowd screams again and Sana turns her head to see that Nayeon has latched onto Momo’s wrist, dragging the protesting girl to the centre of the stage to be ‘taught’ how to dance the couple move. It’s pure fanservice; a little display to placate the fans in the crowd and show a little bit of skinship in the name of pushing the boundaries of friendship. Flirtatious glances and the lingering drag of hands on legs,  an arm slung loosely around a waist, the tilt of a head to rest against the crook of someone’s neck.

 

  The brush of a pair of lips dangerously close to skin.

 

  She was used to it. They all were, but herself a little more than the rest.

 

  It was fun because there weren’t any feelings involved. At this point it was more of a competition to see who would balk first, which girl would yank themselves as far away from the puckered pair of lips reaching for their cheek, or squirm out of the arms holding them tightly in a warm embrace.

 

  It was fun.

 

  There’s hands pushing at her shoulders, nimble fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist that drag her back to the brightly lit stage, crowd roaring in approval as Jeongyeon begins to pull her towards the centre. She shakes out of her stupor to look at Momo standing sheepishly, pushing hardheartedly against Nayeon in protest as the pair push them closer to one another. Her mind stops working the closer she gets to the other girl, short circuiting as the rush of blood in her ears drowns out the screaming voices in the crowd and the teasing, encouraging words Nayeon was fake whispering to her.

 

  Not Momo.

 

  Anyone but Momo.

 

  She laughs; how else is she supposed to react? Nerves are filling up her chest, choking up her lungs until all she can breathe is  _ Momo _ \- three inches away and looking every bit as uncomfortable with this as she does. She’s arguing with the older girl clinging tightly to her arm, pointing accusingly at Sana and laughing, exclaiming ‘ _ no way! _ ’ even as she caves in so easily.  

 

  There’s a few more moments of futile struggling; both girls pushing at each other desperately, laughter pouring out of the other girls watching in waves because this was fun, it was  _ funny _ , and then Momo bumps into her and Nayeon is dragging her to the side.

  Positions. Momo is in front of her, and then Nayeon grabs her my the arm and pushes her around Sana to stand behind her. She laughs nervously, sharp and high pitched at the feel of Momo’s body pressing up behind her momentarily until Nayeon purses her lips in thought, dragging the other girl again to stand in front of Sana once more. They’re both standing on shaky legs, clumsy and uncoordinated tripping over one another as they’re cajoled into place and Sana knows there’s no getting out of this.

 

  A performance.

 

  She’ll treat this like a performance.

 

  Nayeon’s still tugging at her arm insistently, pushing her closer into Momo and  _ God _ , she’s demanding - grabbing Momo’s hand and placing it forcefully to drag against Sana’s cheek like it was supposed to. Momo’s slipped into her role, throwing her head back against her shoulder and looking up at her enticingly.

 

  The crowd roars.

 

  Nayeon and Jeongyeon start singing, and they move. Smooth, practiced rotations of their hips as they sing along playfully, Sana extending her hand towards Momo like a microphone. It’s far too natural, but what else should she expect? It feels good,  _ Momo _ feels good pressed up against her and swaying with her so languidly and there’s that small voice in her head telling her to indulge - to get a little closer, and drink it in whilst she can.

 

  Someone laughs in her in ear piece and suddenly Momo pulls her arms away, turning to face her dubiously. It’s over too soon, much too quickly for her to comprehend and the older girl’s face is masked when she looks up at her uncomfortably. 

 

  It’s a little incredulous, mostly flushed with embarrassment and the eye contact is fleeting as she bows her head and begins to walk away. Sana laughs uneasily, because it’s funny, this was  _ fun _ , and waves giddily at her best friend even as her hands reach up to cover her face. There’s some sparse clapping from the crowd and the girls by her side as she begins to walk back to her spot with an uneasy grin on her face.

 

  The topic moves on. The applause doesn’t feel as good as it should have, all it does is weigh heavily on the uncomfortable feeling lodged in her chest.

 

  
  


* * *

 

 

 

  Something’s wrong.

 

  The dorm is loud - it always is after a concert, adrenaline still thrumming through nine bodies even after hours of rehearsing and performing, everyone excitable and speaking in shouts and laughter. Emotions are running high; they’d all laughed, they’d all cried, and now they’re huddled in their post-concert ritual in the middle of the living room floor, draped across each other and leaning heavily as Nayeon is babbling tearfully about the crowd. Her head is resting against Jeongyeon’s shoulder as she leans back against her chest, the taller girls legs splayed out either side of her as her hand plays with Nayeon’s hair reassuringly. Jihyo is stretched out on both of them, head comfortably nestled against Nayeon’s stomach and Sana would almost think she’s asleep if not for the small hand tapping mindlessly against one of Nayeon’s against her chest. 

 

  Nayeon laughs brightly, a little choked up on tears and overwhelming gratitude and they all laugh with her, tender and warm as Jeongyeon presses a small kiss to her temple. They fit together - three complete pieces of a larger, bigger puzzle.

 

  It’s a pretty picture, always is, just the sight of such unfiltered and odd defying love in its simplest form puts her heart at ease like nothing else. But there’s something sitting uneasily in her chest, has been since they were halfway through their setlist. She’s happy - of course she is. The unparalleled elation of seeing the fans, of performing on stage, of the past week filled to the brim with constant preparation and not resting for more than a moment - it energized her to such an indescribable extreme.

 

  But there’s someone always in the edge of her vision. Sat off to the side, not really talking much past small smiles and distracted glances to whichever member is shouting the most. The dorm is always loud after a concert, but there’s a voice missing. One of the loudest - certainly the highest, because Momo has barely said a word since they all collapsed through the front door not even an hour ago.

 

  Dahyun lifts her head from Tzuyu’s lap and cracks a sleepy joke that everyone laughs loudly to, Sana laughing uneasily with them as Momo pushes herself up from the her seat on the floor, gesturing that she was going the bathroom. She didn’t think anyone really noticed, seeing as how they were used to each other slipping in and out of changing rooms and sets as and when it was needed, and seeing how Chaeyoung and Jeongyeon were currently arguing over whether Chaeng stole Jeong’s joke or if it was the other way around, but she sees two other heads turn and watch as Momo disappears down the hallway.

 

  Jihyo and Nayeon turn their heads to her almost in sync, Nayeon glancing pointedly between her and the direction that Momo had left and Jihyo mouthing silent words across their group of friends.

 

  “Go to her.” 

 

  She makes her leave, stands up on shaky legs and mumbles a half-assed excuse about needing to find something when Mina looks up at her quizzically, far too aware of keen eyes tracking her as she slips out of the noisy room in search of the other girl.

 

  She’s not in the bathroom - the door’s open and the lights are off, so Sana ventures a little further down the unlit hallway on trepid tip toes, slowing to a halt at the open door of her bedroom. The light’s off in there too, but she can hear the faint shuffle of someone moving against the bed sheets and the sounds of someone trying too hard not to cry.

 

  “Momo?” She whispers softly, watching as the vague lump on the bed stiffens and the other girl wipes frantically at her face to erase the signs of distress.

 

  “H-hey.” Her voice is shaky with unshed tears and Sana feels awful. The door opens wider and Sana takes swift steps towards the bed, intent on healing the hurt in the only way she knows how - discomfort from earlier be damned. Arms wrap around Momo’s trembling form and she inhales deeply, surrounding herself with Momo and Momo only as the other girl tucks her head against the crook of her neck. 

 

  “Is this, are you - do you want to talk about it?”

 

  There’s a small laugh muffled against her shoulder, even if it sounds a little hoarse and wet. Sana brings a hand up to cradle the back of Momo’s head a little closer.

 

  “What makes you think there’s something wrong?”

 

  “You’re actually impossible.” Momo laughs again and Sana leans into the sound, fond smile stretching out her cheeks when Momo pulls away. Her eyes are still adjusting to the lighting, but she can see Momo scanning her face, looking, searching for something. She lets her, hand falling from the back of her head to play with the length of her hair. 

 

  “Was it that bad?”

 

  Her fingers pause in their ministrations.

 

  “Was what so bad?”

 

  “The dance. That stupid move. Was it because it was me?”

 

  Sana frowns.

 

  “What? No, why would you - Momo, why would you think-”

 

  “Your face,” her voice is soft, quiet but assured and Sana’s words trickle to nothing, “you looked like you wanted to be anywhere other than next to me.”

 

  “Momo no, that wasn’t it.”

 

  Raw indignation flashes in her eyes.

 

  “Then what is it? Because this isn’t the first time you acted like that - you were fine dancing with Nayeon, absolutely  _ ecstatic _ when Jeongyeon wrapped herself around you.”

 

  “So, why not with me?”

 

  Sana doesn’t have an answer.

 

  Well, she does. She’s had it in her chest for a while, tucked somewhere deep in the recesses of built up feelings and latent realisations. But she knows that words become a little different once they’re said - a little distorted, a little foolish, so she buries everything she’s wanted to say underneath this crippling fear of change and rejection.

  
  


  Momo hates confrontation. Sana can feel her fingers trembling against her t-shirt as she grips a little tighter, arms stiff in her effort to maintain a little bit of distance between them. 

 

  “Sana?”

 

  She didn’t make a habit out of lying. It was one of the things she hated the most, and she knew if she’d answered it wouldn’t be anything but the naked truth.

 

  “Stop looking at me like that.” Momo’s voice has quietened to a whisper. A tongue darts out to wet dry lips.

 

  “Like what?” She hadn’t realised her own voice had reduced itself to a murmur until Momo’s leaning in to try and hear her. The fingers clenched in the fabric of her shirt have loosened slightly, Momo’s face a lot closer than she realised.

 

  “Like you want me.”

 

  Something uncomfortable shifts between them as soon as the words fall from Momo’s lips, embedding itself somewhere low in her stomach - right next to the hesitant desire that had begun to unfurl when the older girl looks down at her with hooded, teary eyes.

 

  “I do.” The words start, and they don’t seem like they’re going to stop. “I do, so much, you don’t even understand-” Momo’s far too close for her to think logically, for her to even think at all, “-and I didn’t hate it, not at all, but I don’t know what to say to you to let you know how I actually feel.”

 

  Momo looks at her tenderly, slow languid blinks as a small smile etches into her cheeks.

 

  “Is it that hard?”

 

  Sana swallows the words in her throat.

 

  “Hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

 

  And there’s weight to that. Because they know what each other has been through; have been by each other’s side since they left everything they knew to try and achieve their dreams, and have seen every rise and fall of their lives since. 

 

  Momo smiles wider, close enough that her nose brushes against Sana’s with every breath.

 

  “That’s funny, because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

 

  She noses closer. Sana can feel the flutter of her eyelashes with every blink.

 

  “And you don’t have to tell me, I think I know.”

 

  Soft lips peck the tip of her nose.

 

   “You should know,” She grabs the hand fisted in her shirt, unfurls the tight fingers until they’re loose and pliant and she slides her own in the space between them, “that I want this (a kiss to her fingertip), and I want you (another kiss, this time on Momo’s nose), and I want to ki-”

 

  Momo cuts her off with a short, chaste kiss on the lips. 

 

  “Is this okay-”

 

  She cuts her off again, except this time it’s longer and sweeter. She feels Momo smile against her and she can’t help but smile too.

 

  “Can you let me talk?” She huffs exasperatedly, but Momo just presses another kiss to her nose and any irritation she might have had melts away into warm eyes and soft lips. 

 

  “Talking isn’t exactly the first thing on my mind right now.”

 

  This feels normal, natural. Like they’ve been doing this since the very beginning, and Sana wonders why she didn’t do something sooner. Momo’s other hand is tugging on the bottom of her shirt, playfully skirting with the skin underneath and the smirk on her face is far too smug for her liking. She winds her other hand around the older girl’s neck and grins when the smirk falters.

 

  “What’s on your mind then?”

 

  She pushes the older girl back, shifting until she’s above her with thighs bracketing Momo’s waist. Momo’s looking up at her with poorly concealed lust in her eyes, thinly veiled beneath disbelief and excitement.

 

  “You’re terrible,” Momo’s voice is barely a whisper, tapering out to a sigh when Sana rocks herself on top of her, “so,  _ so _ terrible.”

 

  “Mmm,” Sana hums, low and coquettish and something hot and viscous starts to pool in Momo’s stomach. She’s not touching her - not quite. Just hovering on her knees, looking down at her with half-lidded eyes that are setting her insides alight and teasing, tempting. Taunting her to do something.

 

  She slides her hands up taut thighs, too fixated on the feel of the smooth skin under her palm to notice the sharp hitch of Sana’s breath as she stills above her.

 

  “Is this so terrible?” She presses down against her stomach and Momo nearly whines at the long awaited contact. 

 

  “N-no. No.” Sana’s warm and damp against her, grinding ever so slowly with little rolls and waves. Shaky fingers tug at the edge of the shorts that had ridden dangerously far up full thighs. “This is...nice.”

 

  “That’s...not how people usually react.”

 

  “People?” Momo murmurs, thumb stroking just underneath the edge of Sana’s shorts. “How do they usually react?”

 

  “It varies,” Her smile is coy and a little mischievous, dripping with intent as slender fingers make their way under her rucked up shirt. Scalding fingertips skate along her ribcage and Momo sucks in a breath when they begin to tap just underneath the soft skin of her breasts. “Usually they do that.” 

 

  Sana bucks a little more firmly against her stomach and Momo let’s out a small gasp.

 

  “Or that.” 

 

  She can see the impatience growing on the older girl the longer she draws this out, the mounting frustration with every little roll of her hips, or the tight jut of her jaw when she lightly scratches at her ribs. She could do this for a while - has done, but the way Momo’s hands are sliding up her thighs and the small, almost imperceptible way her hips keep rising up to try and match the rhythm of Sana’s own has left her restless and perhaps a little desperate.

 

  Eager hands grab at her ass through the confines of her shorts and she moans.

 

  Momo grins.

 

  “Do they do that too?”

 

  She recovers with an embarrassed blush rising on her face, because  _ really  _ she shouldn’t have moaned at something so slight. She masks it with a confident grin, leaning down to pull the older girl into a messy, searing kiss that neither of them really control. It’s hot and fast and mostly teeth tugging on lips and the slow swipe of tongues against each others mouth, nipping and licking before Sana pulls away abruptly, relishing the dazed, confused look on Momo’s face that she had been the cause of. She pushes her down against the rumpled sheets and places her hands either side of her head as she leans back down to kiss her again. 

 

  Momo makes the cutest sigh as she does, almost whining into her mouth as her hands work their way into the back of Sana’s hair, tugging lightly at the strands there. She presses quick, hard kisses against her lips and starts dragging herself along the taut line of Momo’s jaw, smiling at the soft little gasps when she sucks ever so slightly just above her pulse. She maps a trail down her slender neck, pausing to nip at the soft skin in between messy kisses that has Momo writhing underneath her, feeling the slide of her leg as she bends it to accommodate Sana a little better. She nestles her lower half between warm thighs, sliding lower and lower until comes into contact with Momo’s shirt.

 

  “Off.” She mumbles against her collar bone, sucking lazy little marks in the dip there as her fingers tug at the hem of the girl’s shirt. 

 

  Momo’s compliant, entirely too eager as she rises her arms above her head and allows Sana to pull the fabric over her head. She whines at the loss of contact, only sighing in relief when Sana resumes her kisses (albeit with a barely stifled eye roll). She’s needy - all dragged out whines and moans and fingers curling demandingly at the base of Sana’s neck, and Sana shouldn’t have expected anything different if she was honest. 

 

  “Y-yours too.” She stutters out between broken breaths, pulling at the hem of her neckline and Sana pulls away with a quirked brow. 

 

  Momo’s a mess; eyes blown wide and dripping with need, short hair fanning against the sheets in a messy halo and lips bruised and swollen. Her chest’s heaving erratically, in short, jagged gasps for air that drag her attention to the perfect pair of breasts just waiting for a little bit of attention.

 

  She runs a thumb along a taut, pretty pink nipple, eyes darkening at the tiny gasp Momo produces. She does it again, almost laughing at the way the older girl arches into her touch, always asking, demanding for more. 

 

  “Needy.” She murmurs lowly, before dipping her head to take her other nipple into her mouth.

 

  Momo cries, actually lets out a short, sharp wail at the unexpected sensation. Sana’s mouth is warm and wet, tongue swirling slow circles around the hardened nub between small sucks, mouthing at her - trying to learn what makes her tick. 

 

  Everything, as it turns out - if the desperate way Momo cradles her head against her is anything to go by, and the whiny mewls that have been steadily increasing in volume. 

 

  She barely notices the thigh slipping between her own until it’s pressing against her insistently, coaxing a moan that ripples lowly against the older girl. Momo shudders underneath her at the sensation, sighing in disappointment when Sana detaches from her nipple with a wet pop.

 

  “Seems like you need this just as much as I do.” 

 

  Sana knows she’s wet; she could feel the growing pool of heat mounting between her legs with every passing second, but to have the evidence of it pressing so damningly against Momo’s thigh, to have the older girl smiling up at her in a wicked, knowing smirk had shame burning scarlet across her face.

 

  They’re sat up again. Sana’s straddling Momo like she belongs there, making small, desperate rolls with her hips to try and alleviate a little bit of the heat building in her core to little avail. Their whole relationship was built around the push and pull, of trying to see who can one up the other and make the other lose their composure. It’s not like this would be any different.

 

  “Will you,” Momo presses her thigh higher, making Sana hiss in delight, “let me do this like I imagined, damn it!”

 

  “Thought about this a lot, huh?”

 

  Sana throws her head back with a low breathy gasp, the mounting friction between her legs building higher and higher.

 

  “You have no idea.” She threads her hands in the back of Momo’s hair, pulling her closer for another messy kiss as she ruts against her thigh in broken, almost desperate thrusts. Insistent fingers are reaching around her waist to press at the small of her back, gliding over skin to ask for more,  _ more _ , and Sana complies, gasping when Momo holds her more firmly in place atop her leg. 

 

  The moan she lets out into Momo’s mouth is absolutely carnal, and Sana feels the scrape of teeth against her lower lip. 

 

  White hot shards of electricity spike at the bottom of her stomach, stemming from the pads of Momo’s fingers pressing determinedly at the waistband of her shorts to the feverish heat swiftly reaching boiling point between her thighs. It’s hot, and she knows that Momo can feel the damp heat seeping through her boy shorts because the older girl’s thigh is coated in a sheen of sweat and slick that glistens in the dim lighting every time her hips snap back. 

 

  She tries to increase the pace of her hips but there’s a firm grip on her waist, slowing her to a tedious crawl that just isn’t giving her the friction she needs.

 

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

 

  Momo’s wearing a devilish grin. Bratty, almost a little smug with how her lips curl up and the way she looks up at Sana with dark, hooded eyes. It’s a familiar expression and Sana moans exasperatedly.

 

  “Momo come  _ on _ .” 

 

  She tries to jerk forward but the resulting movement does little more than frustrate her even further, knocking her forehead against Momo’s with an aggravated huff. She breathes for a few moments, gaining back lost breath and feeling the rise and fall of her chest even as Momo stares up at her with that stupid, aggravating grin on her face.

 

  Sana wanted to kiss her again.

 

  “I think it’s kind of unfair that you’re wearing so many clothes right now.”

 

  Sana sneers, mimicking the other girl in a high pitched, babyish tone.

 

  “I think it’s kind of unfair that you’re stopping me from -  _ ah _ !”

 

  She’s cut off by the sharp rise of Momo’s thigh, whining when the pressure on her waist lessens and the pressure between her thighs increases. Her hips move of their own accord, quick, hard little thrusts that have Sana tilting her head back as her hands lock themselves around the back of Momo’s neck.

  It’s a ridiculously short amount of time before she’s close to coming again - she can feel it building in her core, hard and fast and so fucking close to spilling over that she can feel the first few tremors that skate along her skin as her thighs start to clench around Momo’s in anticipation.

 

  Momo’s grip on her hips increases again and the sound that escapes Sana’s throat vaguely resembles a snarl.

 

  “You should take your shirt off.”

 

  “You are absolutely  _ fucking _ unbelievable - do you know that?” Sana hisses, eyes narrowed dangerously into slits, and Momo has the audacity to fucking shrug. She exhales heavily, ignoring the satisfied glint of victory in Momo’s eyes as shaky fingers tug at the hem of her own shirt. 

 

  It comes off in one swift movement, throwing the offending fabric somewhere on the other side of the room. The look on Momo’s face would be comical if she wasn’t so riled up, eyes wide and glazed over as they dart from her now exposed chest and face. She almost looks overwhelmed, as if she isn’t quite sure what to do now that she’s reached her goal, and Sana takes advantage.

 

  Determined hands slide back over Momo’s skin, one reaching around to cup the back of her head and tug her closer while the other settles comfortably on her shoulder. She leans in closer, close enough that she can feel each warm, staccato breath slipping past gaping lips. 

 

  “Do you want to watch, or touch?” 

 

  Momo stares at her confusedly until she punctuates her sentence with a hard thrust against her thigh, grinding down firmly on the limb with a wanton moan that has Momo momentarily snapping her head towards the closed door in fear that someone might have heard. It snaps back just as fast when Sana doesn’t stop, rocking steadily on top of her with short, tight rolls as the hand on Momo’s shoulder grips tighter, holding her in place.  

 

  The hands that had so determinedly held her in place moments before hovered hesitantly at her waist now, Momo entirely unsure what she wanted to do with them even as her gaze stayed transfixed on the way Sana’s small, perky breasts bounced just inches away from her face. 

 

  “Can,” Momo begins shakily, fingers dragging their way up the planes of Sana’s stomach as a tongue darts out to wet dry lips, “can I-”

 

  Sana cuts her off with a moan, thrusting towards the older girl expectantly because  _ god, _ she just wants to be touched at this point and she should have known that Momo would be this fucking infuriating in bed and she finally, finally takes it as a response and gives a light, tentative squeeze. She arches into the touch with a soft sigh, and Momo gets a little bolder, sits up a little straighter and becomes more assured in her ministrations.

 

  She leans forward experimentally, licking a broad stripe against her nipple before taking it eagerly into her mouth and Sana’s  _ sensitive _ , gasping sharply at the unexpected sensation of a warm, wet tongue lapping at her with an ardent purpose to drive her absolutely insane. 

 

  It’s too much. The way Momo suckled fervently at her breast, and the soft hand cupping the other gently with a rough thumb brushing absently against a pebbled nipple, and the cresting wave of pressure building in her gut as Momo leans forward and her thigh presses even harder against her.

 

  She comes with a long, drawn out moan that Momo quickly swallows in a frantic kiss, thighs quivering around Momo’s as strong shudders wrack her frame when she rides out her orgasm with slower, lighter rolls of her hips. All Sana can hear is harsh, unsteady breaths when comes down from her high, shaky ragged gasps for air even as she feels familiar fingers drawing figure eights against her back slowly.

 

  She releases Momo’s shoulder from her airtight grip only to smack it in the same spot, scowling down at the older girl as she winces jokingly.

 

  “You’re an ass.”

 

  “That’s not how people usually react.”

 

_ God she’s so fucking aggravating.   _

 

  Sana pushes hard enough at her shoulder to make her lean back a little, relishing at the nervous way Momo’s eyes widened as she leans over her.

 

  “Yeah?” She whispers lowly, ducking her head to brush her lips against the shell of her ear, “How do they usually react?”

 

  She tugs a lobe in between her teeth, pulling gently on it to elicit a sharp inhale from the girl beneath her. She’s still straddling Momo’s thigh so she uses this to her advantage, nudging pliant thighs open as she kneels on the bed and pulls her into a messy, open mouthed kiss that’s more teeth than lips. Practiced fingers skate their way down the length of Momo’s body, trailing from her neck to her breasts, not pausing for a moment in their course. She feels the sharp inhale as they glide over a stomach taut with anticipation, grinning triumphantly against the older girl when the drawstring of her shorts comes undone with a sharp tug.

 

  “Now,” her voice is scarcely there, an immodest rasp that vibrates tantalizingly against the tight strain of Momo’s neck as she drags her lips against unblemished skin, “let me do this as I imagined.”

 

  Fingers delve past her waistband to find wet heat, cooing in delight at the pretty little whine Momo tries to stifle. It’s slow, deliberate strokes to begin with, coating her fingers with the mess that she was to blame for, taking note of the way Momo arched into her touch when she moved her fingers a certain way, or the way she’d huff exasperatedly if she moved a different way. 

 

  She quickens the pace; fast, hard circles around her hardened nub and Momo let’s out a sudden cry of shock, biting down on her own thumb to try and quieten the feverish little moans that had begun to spill past unaware lips. Her hips push more insistently up against her, the older girl demanding and needy even when she doesn’t realise it and Sana sucks just hard enough to mark on the underside of her jaw when Momo let’s out a particularly sharp cry. 

 

  “I should stop shouldn’t I?” She says it teasingly but Momo’s hands pull insistently at the small of Sana’s back when she says it, gasping out a disbelieving ‘no’ that’s quickly swallowed by another moan.

 

  “I think it’s only fair.” She chuckles hoarsely, ghosting a treasure trail of kisses down the swell of the older girl’s neck as a string of nonsensical pleas fill her ears.

 

  “God, Sana no, please,  _ please _ ,  _ Sana _ ,” she cries desperately, hips thrusting erratically at this point, words broken up by deep, frantic breaths, “Sana,  _ please _ .”

 

  Momo’s splayed out underneath her, aching and crying and pulled so flushly against her that Sana can feel every single movement; the fingernails pressing firm crescent indents against her back, the soft, supple flesh under her palm, the thighs trying desperately to clench around as she works her higher and faster until Momo falls apart with a soft, keening whine that she muffles against Sana’s neck.

 

  It’s silent for a few moments, unsteady breaths filling the space between them. Sana goes to sit up, hand running through her hair to try and tame the tangled mess it had become and looking down at Momo with a satisfied smile. The older girl has yet to meet her eyes, darting anywhere and everywhere that wasn’t Sana’s face in an uncharacteristic display of bashfulness. Her hand is still nestled comfortably in the warm heat in Momo’s shorts, dragging it slowly up to rest on the dip of her stomach just enough that her fingers still stayed in the confines of the fabric. She taps a steady rhythm, slow and patient until Momo manages to say what she wants to say.

 

  “Can we do that again?”

 

  Sana laughs a little louder than she intended in disbelief.

 

  “Like, right now?”

 

  “No, I mean yes? Not right now - I mean, unless,” Momo babbles rapidly, clumsy syllables that trip over each other in her haste to correct herself and Sana smiles tenderly, “No. Not right now, I just really want to sleep. With you.”

 

  “Kind of sounds like you’re still angling for a second round, y’know.”

 

  The older girl rolls her eyes in feigned annoyance.

 

  “You know what I mean.” She coughs uncertainly, clearing her throat and finally returning Sana’s gaze. Small fingers begin to curl around Sana’s wrist, the action familiar and affectionate and Sana let’s the older girl pull her to lie against her side. “We should talk when we wake up.”

 

  “Yeah.” Sana sighs sleepily, yawning against Momo’s shoulder as she pulls the blanket up around them. Her arm is slung lazily across Momo’s waist, her hand still resting atop of her own and she feels the older girl press a small kiss to her crown as drowsiness clutches at the edge of her consciousness.  

 

  “Still think this was hard?”

 

  She hums absently, sinking into the warmth of Momo and the sheets as she doesn’t even need to think about her response.

 

  “No, because it was you.”

 

  Momo stills for a moment beneath her, she can feel the way her body tensed at the pseudo confession and the way Momo’s arms tightened around her after says more than words ever could.

 

  “Good.”


End file.
